


spellbound (by you)

by chaoticsarahh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Draco gets sorted into Gryffindor, Draco is depressed, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter Reimagined, Lucius Malfoy is a terrible parent, Minor Canon character death, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, More tags to be added, References to Child Abuse, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28474323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticsarahh/pseuds/chaoticsarahh
Summary: Hermione Granger discovers a book that can rewrite the past. What happens when the life of a boy destined to be in Slytherin is upended by being sorted into Gryffindor? Draco Malfoy's father will hear about it. That you can count on.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	1. winter, 2004

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Sarah Rewrites Harry Potter (and also writes Dramione/Harry Potter for the first time!). This is a reimagining of the series if Draco had ended up in Gryffindor. It was originally a one-shot, and then I started outlining and realized it was going to end up WAY LONGER, and here we are.
> 
> Based on [this lovely](https://twitter.com/galacticidiots/status/1342081398027517952?s=20) galacticidiots prompt that refused to leave my head.

On a cold winter afternoon in the middle of February, Hermione Granger was determined to go to the bookstore.

Too many Sundays have passed since she last visited Spellbound Books, tucked away in a hidden corner in Hogsmeade. Hermione trudged through the snowstorm, scarf wrapped tight around her face to brace herself against the wind. She finally made it inside, a tinkling bell announcing her arrival. A friendly voice greeted her from behind the counter.

“Welcome to Spellbound Books! What can I-oh! Hermione!”

Hermione, now finally recognizable once she stripped herself of her winter gear, shot a smile at Betty, the owner of Spellbound. It was quite a ridiculous name for a magical bookstore such as this one. When Hermione asked if it was a little too on-the-nose, Betty simply smiled and said her Muggle wife had suggested the name, and she was too amused by the pun to change it to anything else. 

“Good morning! Get anything new these past couple weeks?” Hermione asked as she scanned through the shelves of best sellers.

“Nothing much. There is a thrilling new book called ‘The Golden Trio: Outshining and Outsmarting the Dark Lord.’ Might want to give it a read.”

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. Almost six years after the end of the war and you’d think people would have something new to write about.

“Alright then. I’ll just take a look around.”

“Be my guest,” Betty said while tossing today’s _Daily Prophet_ to Hermione. “Give this a read, too. You got a front-page mention.”

A picture of Draco Malfoy was plastered above the fold. His dirty blond hair laid flat against his head, his prison robes hanging off his skeleton of a body. His face was sunken in, cheeks hollow and eyes dull. She shuddered, remembering just a few days ago when she was in the courtroom, testifying that five years in Azkaban was clearly enough time for Malfoy to serve. He deserved to be released. He was just a boy.

Hermione blinked slowly, the headline “Malfoy To Serve Life in Prison For Crimes Committed During The War” still emblazoned in her mind.

She flipped the paper over, and sure enough, below the fold was a short article about her and Harry’s testimony in favor of Malfoy’s release. Ron had refused to testify, saying Malfoy deserved a Dementor’s Kiss for what he did. That was a fight Hermione and Ron had yet to resolve.

Hermione’s feet took her to the back of the store where all the oldest books were kept - ones yellow with age, falling apart and barely decipherable. She ran her finger over their spines, reveling in the familiarity of their curves. She stopped at a small book, no bigger than her palm. It was wedged between two large tomes, so small it was easy to miss. Hermione was intrigued. The old, battered brown cover failed to spark anything in her memory. She freed it from the shelf, picked up a letter that fell from its pages, and took a seat in a squishy reading chair a few shelves down.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she flipped through the pages of the book. It had been a long time since something had excited her. Working as an Apparitions Examiner was mind-numbingly dull. Her relationship with Ron wasn’t much better. She always thought this sort of routine would bring her joy, especially after years of stress, heartache and loss. Instead she wanted nothing more than to stick her wand into her brain and give it a good swirl just to make things more interesting.

Most of the pages in the book were blank. A few were filled with disjointed sentences scrawled in a variety of handwriting.

“My favorite sweets are Sugar Quills.”

“I will ask Emily to the ball.”

“Voldemort doesn’t win the war.”

Hermione ran her fingers over the words, mind spinning in circles. She ripped open the envelope and pulled out a pristine piece of paper with only three sentences.

“This is a book filled with the truth. Be careful what you write. If it isn’t the truth, you might change everything.”

Hermione sat in shock with her discovery. What should she do? Turn it in? That would be the responsible, logical solution. Make sure no one could use the book for evil. 

Her eyes drifted to _The Daily Prophet_ , and the picture of Malfoy. Even the Malfoy in the image didn’t fight, or yell, or try to escape. He stood in his interrogation cell, face devoid of emotion like he had already accepted his fate.

She wasn't thinking. That was the only explanation for why she found a blank page, dug around in her bag to find a quill, and before talking herself out of it, scribbled “Draco Malfoy is sorted into Gryffindor House at the beginning of his first year at Hogwarts.”


	2. fall, 1991

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gets sorted, and a troll ends up in Hogwarts.

The Great Hall was even greater in person. Hermione could barely believe her eyes, sharing interesting details she read about in _Hogwarts, A History_ with whoever she was walking with. The first-years finally arrived in front of a long table where all the professors sat - the High Table, if she correctly recalled her reading.

Hermione bounced in anticipation, eagerly waiting her turn to be sorted. Like she told Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, she hoped she was in Gryffindor. Anything but Slytherin, really. She wasn’t sure she would even be allowed in if she was sorted into Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall called Seamus Finnigan to sit on the stool, and she figured she must be next. Sure enough-

“Granger, Hermione!”

She practically ran to the stool and jammed the hat on her head. A voice suddenly spoke into her ear.

“Ah, interesting, very interesting. You’ve got a bright mind. Ravenclaw wouldn’t be a bad fit.”

“Gryffindor, please, Gryffindor,” Hermione thought.

“Gryffindor, huh? You do have courage, lots of it. Very well. GRYFFINDOR!”

She was grinning from ear to ear when she stepped down to sit next to a prefect who introduced himself as Percy Weasley. They sat through a few more sortings - Gryffindor got Neville Longbottom who sat on the opposite side of the table from Hermione - when a blond boy with a smirk caught her attention. 

She elbowed Percy gently and pointed the boy out.

“Who’s that? Do you know who he might be?”

Percy’s face twisted in distaste.

“That’s Draco Malfoy. His parents were big supporters of You-Know-Who. He’ll be Slytherin, for sure.”

Hermione nodded and turned back to the sorting ceremony just as Malfoy’s name was called.

He swaggered up to the stool and the Sorting Hat went on his head. There was silence, and more silence, and even more silence. No one’s sorting had taken this long. Even McGonagall shot a look at Dumbledore, who seemed perfectly content to sit in the Great Hall until the end of time, waiting on the Sorting Hat. Finally, after a few more seconds, the hat opened its mouth and shouted -

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Hermione could hear a pin drop in the quiet that followed. 

No one moved for a beat, not until McGonagall picked the Sorting Hat up off Malfoy’s head and steered him towards the Gryffindor table. Malfoy sat next to Hermione, his eyes vacant. Hermione kept stealing glances at him as the Sorting Ceremony continued. She caught what she thought was a “this is a mistake” murmured under his breath so quietly only she heard.

Most of the Great Hall forgot about Malfoy when Harry Potter got sorted into Gryffindor. He received quite a cheer that Hermione noticed Malfoy did not participate in. He sat rigidly, unmoving, staring at some spot far away.

Ron Weasley also joined Gryffindor, and after Dumbledore said a few words, everyone dug into the feast. Hermione figured Malfoy wouldn’t be the best conversationalist, especially at the moment, so she turned to Percy, animatedly telling him about what she was most looking forward to and what to expect from her classes.

Hermione was helping herself to more mashed potatoes when she realized Malfoy hadn't eaten anything. His plate was clean as could be, and his silverware hadn’t moved an inch. Before she thought better of it, she nudged his thigh with her knee, and when his head whipped in her direction, she raised an eyebrow along with the potatoes, asking a silent question.

Malfoy must have said yes, because he took the potatoes without a word, giving Hermione a head tilt. She smiled at him - a real smile, buck teeth and all. She almost swore the side of his mouth tugged up in an almost grin. 

***

This was ridiculous. A disgrace. An outrage. Maybe he should have stood up and loudly complained about how the Sorting Hat was clearly broken. He was just too shocked in the moment to do much about it. It wasn’t until that Mudblood with the horrific bushy hair passed him some food that he snapped out of his trance. 

He trudged after Weasley and Potter - his new best mates - to the Gryffindor dormitories.

Just wait until his father heard about this.

They arrived at their room, and Draco noticed the other boys had already claimed beds, lounging and chatting with excitement.

Draco headed to the only empty bed, the one he assumed was assigned to him, but paused when he felt the stares of five other boys. Sure enough, when Draco turned around, everyone was looking at him, some cautiously, like Seamus Finnegan, and some, like Weasley, looked like they might outright murder him. Ha. He’d like to see them try.

“What?”

Draco tried to inject as much malice and venom into the word as possible. It was a long day, and he wanted to rest and get this whole thing sorted out so he could go back to his _real_ friends in Slytherin.

Weasley crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare.

“You’re not sleeping here.”

Draco rolled his eyes. Honestly, who did Weasley think he was?

“Well, where else am I supposed to sleep?”

Weasley shrugged like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Not my problem. Get out.”

Draco’s eyes flicked to the other boys, who seemed to be in agreement with Weasley. Even Potter scowled at him.

“Fine. Like I would choose to sleep next to blood traitors like you.”

Draco spun around and grabbed a blanket and pillow off what was supposed to be his bed, and marched down to the now-empty common room. Obviously he didn’t want to sleep anywhere remotely related to Gryffindor, but his childhood friends had wrinkled their noses and loudly pointed out his mistake when he tried to sneak in with the Slytherins. 

He flopped onto a couch and made his makeshift bed as comfortable as possible. This had to be resolved tomorrow. Draco wasn’t sure what he'd do otherwise. What would his parents think? Draco had no doubt his father could fix this mess, but he would be disappointed, probably more disappointed than he’d ever been with Draco. And his father’s disappointment was never good. 

Draco rolled over, pressing his face into the pillow to try to stop the tears that somehow managed to leak out. He fell asleep with only one thought in his head - he wished he wasn’t so alone.

***

Malfoy disappeared for weeks. The last time Hermione saw him he was curled up on a couch in the Common Room where he clearly spent the night. A couple days later Hermione saw a tall man with long, blond hair and black robes yelling at Dumbledore in a dark corner about how the Sorting Hat had to be broken, and how Dumbledore had gotten too old to be useful if he couldn’t fix the situation. Hermione slunk off before either man could spot her.

***

Hermione saw Malfoy again in early October. He was already sitting at the back of the Potions classroom when she arrived, almost late because she got caught up reading a book in the library. She watched as the Slytherins smirked and laughed as they passed him. The Gryffindors weren’t much better, rolling their eyes and ignoring him. Hermione took a deep breath and approached his cauldron. 

“Do you need a partner?”

Malfoy glanced up, confused.

“I, uh...me? Um...yeah.”

Hermione sat next to him and began to pull out her supplies, rattling on about the difference between slicing and crushing unicorn horn, distracting Malfoy from the stares of everyone else.

***

Draco was exhausted by the end of the day. He appreciated his father doing everything he could to get him into Slytherin, but missing the first month of school was quite the price to pay. He just finished talking with Quirrell about what he needed to catch up on, and Draco had to find a couple books at the library before he could write an essay on the basics of the Dark Arts. 

He was wandering the aisles, which were pretty much empty on a Friday night, when he heard a quiet sniffling. Curious, he followed the noise until he found Granger curled up on the ground, hugging her knees and crying.

Draco whipped behind a shelf before she could spot him. What should he do? He could run away and pretend he never saw her. His father’s words rang in his ears: “No matter what house you’re in, do not befriend any...unsavory folk. You have the Malfoy reputation to uphold.”

Draco was positive a Mudblood like Granger would fall into the unsavory category. But she was also the only person who willingly sat next to him, drawing attention away from him with all of her incessant hand-raising and question-answering.

Before he got a chance to doubt himself, he stepped out from behind the shelf and sat next to her. He felt her body tense, then relax slightly when she looked up to see him.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hey.” Draco smiled at her gently. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”

Granger sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

“Someone said my hair was such a mess it was like a dozen nifflers attacked it.”

Draco couldn’t hold back a snort, which earned him a scandalized glare from Granger.

“I think they’re underestimating the skill of nifflers. That’s a job for a half-dozen, max,” he said, gesturing to her hair.

Granger looked like she might start crying all over again. Her expression softened when she saw there was no malice in Draco’s eyes.

He decided it was best to change the subject.

“I was gone for a while. What’d I miss?”

Granger perked up, and launched into a long-winded explanation about how some Slytherins (based on her descriptions, he was pretty sure it was Parkinson and Nott, but she didn’t remember their names) tried to dispose of Longbottom’s Remembrall at the top of the Astronomy Tower, but Potter had caught it before it hit the ground and now he was the new Seeker on the Quidditch team.

Draco’s jaw dropped in shock.

“What?!? Are you serious? First-years aren’t allowed on the Quidditch team! That’s so unfair!” Draco spluttered.

He sulked. Draco would have said his father would hear about this, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell him about yet another one of his failures, even if he really had no control over it. It was his father’s fault for pulling him out of school in the first place. Maybe if he had been at the flying lesson and caught the Remembrall he could be the Quidditch prodigy. That would’ve given his parents something to be proud about.

“You can always join the team next year,” Granger said.

Draco grunted and crossed his arms, still upset.

Granger twirled a curl between her fingers and chewed her lip. Draco knew she wanted to ask him something.

“What?”

Granger jumped like he bit her, and said in a rush, “you’re staying in Gryffindor, right?”

Draco scowled some more. 

“Yes. Dumbledore says the Sorting Hat’s word is final. So looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Granger smiled at him softly, and Draco thought maybe that won’t be so bad.

“The hat refused to put me anywhere else except Gryffindor,” he mused. “I asked it to put me in Slytherin. It told me it couldn’t.”

Granger’s brows scrunched together in thought.

“That’s strange. It considered putting me in Ravenclaw, but when I asked for Gryffindor, it went with it.”

They fell into a discussion about the Sorting Hat and how to potentially trick it to put someone in a different house. They lost track of the time and talked until the library closed and Madam Pince kicked them out.

It was later that night when Hermione realized she never told him about the three-headed dog she discovered with Harry and Ron when they got lost a couple weeks ago.

***

Ron and Harry seemed to notice Hermione’s newfound friendship with Draco. Ron muttered something under his breath about how they were perfect for each other since they didn't have friends when Hermione and Draco paired up in Charms class on Halloween. Hermione ignored him as best she could. She had gotten used to the taunts and know-it-all comments, but they still stung.

Professor Flitwick said today they would learn how to make things float. Hermione and Draco shared an excited glance. They had both been looking forward to this lesson.

It was no surprise Hermione was the first to get her feather to rise. She felt a familiar swoop of pride when she navigated it back down to the desk. Draco looked pleased and congratulated her. He struggled until Hermione pointed out it was Levi-O-sa, not Levios-A. She grimaced and waited for the barrage of comments about how he didn’t ask her for help and she was just showing off how good she was. It shocked her when instead of calling her a know-it-all, Draco thanked her and successfully made his feather float on the next try.

As they left class, Draco told her he had to go catch up on some Transfiguration homework, and left her to walk to the Great Hall for lunch by herself. She was about to pass Ron and Harry when she overheard Ron say her name.

“Honestly, it’s a wonder he can stand her. Did you hear her correcting him? It’s a miracle he didn’t bite her head off. She’s a nightmare.”

Tears filled her eyes before she could stop them. She ran, bumping into Ron on her way to the bathroom so she could be sad in peace.

***

Draco waited for Hermione in Transfiguration that afternoon, but she never showed up. He worried she was off somewhere crying. Since the first time he stumbled upon her in the library, he had found her there and exiting the girl’s bathroom a handful of times with a tear-stained face. By this point she probably had an entire collection of his handkerchiefs.

He went to the Great Hall, hoping to see her for dinner, but she wasn’t there either. Sad, because the Halloween decorations really were incredible. 

The feast had barely started when Professor Quirrell came running in, screaming something about a troll and collapsing.

Draco was on his feet and sprinting out of the Great Hall before he could think. He paused a moment, debating where Hermione could be. He suddenly remembered a notice at the front of the library saying it would be closed Halloween night, so he sprinted towards the girls bathroom.

Draco screeched to a halt when he saw the troll, in all its ugly glory, lumbering into the place he was headed. Sure enough, a few seconds later, a shrill scream pierced the air.

Draco peeked around the corner inside. Hermione was crouched beneath the sinks, her terrified eyes fixed on the troll moseying towards her, club raised in the air. Draco sprung forward and yelled the first spell he could think of.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

The club flew out of the troll’s hand, who looked around confused before spotting Draco. The troll shuffled towards him. Draco walked backwards out the door of the bathroom, trying to stay calm while keeping the troll’s club floating in the air.

“Hit it!” Hermione screamed.

Draco nodded and concentrated, sending the club flying into the troll’s stomach. It grunted and grabbed the club, advancing towards Draco, who desperately looked around for some inspiration on what to do next.

His salvation came from Hermione.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

A horrific metallic screeching followed, and a sink came flying out of the bathroom to hit the troll on the head. The troll swayed and Draco dodged it before it came toppling over with a loud crash.

A stunned Hermione, who was now covered in water spewing from the hole in the wall where the sink used to be, slowly approached the troll. Draco nudged it with his foot, and it didn’t wake.

“Good hit. You knocked it out”

Hermione let out a shocked laugh, surveying the damage.

“Maybe I should try out for the Quidditch team.”

It was Draco’s turn to laugh.

“And I thought you hated flying, Granger.”

Hermione stood next to Draco, leaning against the wall to try to get away from the troll.

“I suppose the entire school heard the racket we made and is on their way.”

“You’re probably right,” Draco sighed and sat down. “Shall we await our fate?”

Hermione nodded and sat next to Draco, playing with a stray curl before glancing at Draco and murmuring, “thanks for coming to find me.”

Draco smiled at her, and they returned to sitting in companionable silence, eyeing the snoring troll in front of them.

That was how Harry and Ron found them moments later.


	3. winter, 1992

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's back at Hogwarts after Christmas, and the gang has a big chat with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have made myself sad writing this.
> 
> CW for this chapter: Draco mentions being slapped by his father. If you don't want to read skip from "Draco paused before responding" to "Draco decided on an easy answer." There's also angst around Draco trying to unlearn what he's been taught his whole life.
> 
> If I've missed a tag please let me know!

Draco was happy to be going back to Hogwarts. That was truly a sentence he never thought would be possible, but his life hadn’t exactly turned out how he thought it would in the last few months. He wandered the Hogwarts Express, looking for a familiar head of bushy hair in the compartments. Draco finally tracked down Hermione, who squealed delightedly when he greeted her.

“How was your break? Did you have a good Christmas?”

Draco paused before responding. Did he have a good Christmas? Not really. When his father asked about his friends, Draco excitedly told him about Hermione, but his words were cut off by a slap from his father. He told Draco it was a disgrace to be friends with Muggle-borns, and Draco was tarnishing the Malfoy name. Draco escaped to his room to cry. Eventually his mother came in. She told him she was happy he found a friend like Hermione, but it would probably be best to not talk to his father about _people like her_. 

The New Year’s Eve party wasn’t much better. His old Slytherin friends he’d usually run around and cause havoc with ignored him. Draco ended up spending most of the party in the library reading. That earned him another slap for “not being a proper host.” Draco didn’t understand - it was his mother’s party, not his. Why did he have to act as a host?

Draco decided on an easy answer.

“It was...fine. How was yours?”

Hermione launched into an explanation of her family’s Christmas traditions, thoroughly distracting Draco from his own problems. The conversation turned to their studies, and Hermione mentioned something about Nicolas Flamel that caught his attention.

“Wait, why do you care about Nicolas Flamel? Are you trying to be immortal or something?”

Hermione gaped at Draco, her excitement shining bright in her eyes. “You know who he is?”

“Yeah, he’s some really old wizard who has a Sorcerer’s Stone, and then you can make a potion from the Stone and drink it and live forever.”

“Of course! Now that you say it I remember reading about it in a book somewhere!" Hermione beamed. "You’re brilliant!”

Draco felt the rush of blood heating his cheeks at her compliment. Hermione didn’t seem to notice Draco’s discombobulation. He tried his best to refocus on Hermione, and realized she was talking about why she cared about Flamel in the first place. Something about a three-headed dog named...Fluffy?

***

The morning of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff dawned sunny and bright. What wasn’t sunny and bright - the mood at the Gryffindor table. Hermione kept trying to get Harry to eat some eggs, telling him he needed his strength. Meanwhile Ron was glaring at Draco over a plate full of bacon. Draco didn’t understand why Hermione was friends with Ron and Harry, but more often than not, the trio were a package deal, so he put up with them. Harry wasn’t too bad. It was Ron he really couldn’t stand.

Draco noticed Ron’s grumpiness, and said around a mouthful of potatoes, “Something bothering you, Weasley?”

“Yeah, are you-” Ron picked up a piece of bacon and pointed it at Draco, “-going to actually show up to the match this time?”

Draco sighed. Apparently the first Quidditch game involved Snape trying to curse Harry’s broom. It was only after Ron tackled him, knocking over a few other teachers in the process (and earning himself a month’s worth of detentions) did Harry manage to fly unimpeded. Draco had been jealous of Harry for making the Quidditch team as a first-year, and spent the match huddled in a corner of the library. Hermione joined him, saying she didn’t care about sports and would rather be reading anyway. Draco had a hunch she hadn’t wanted him to be alone.

“I do plan on showing up,” Draco said coolly. “Since there appears to be a non-zero chance Potter’s going to fall off his broom, I wouldn’t want to miss it.”

Hermione scoffed exasperatedly. “Draco!” she scolded, before turning to Harry to assure him he most definitely _wouldn’t_ fall today.

In the end, no intervention on their part was necessary. Dumbledore was there and Harry caught the snitch almost as soon as the match began.

***

After one particularly grueling Potions class, Hermione hustled to the library. She was supposed to meet Draco for a study session. Even though exams were weeks away, the homework was already starting to pile up. She made study schedules for everyone, but the schedules would only work if all four of them managed to study together.

She sighed to herself. Those boys couldn't seem to get along. She understood Ron and Draco had some bad blood between their families, but seriously, couldn’t they put it behind them? It would make life much easier. She was really tired of always being the mediator.

Hermione marched into the library and made a beeline for Draco’s usual table. She rounded a corner and gasped. Draco’s blond head was bowed as a group of first-year Slytherins - she didn’t know their names - laughed around him. One girl reached out and shoved his shoulder. Draco glanced up at her and said something Hermione couldn’t hear, but it made the Slytherins laugh harder.

Their glee filled Hermione with rage. She stomped over and slammed her books on the table, startling everyone.

“If I had known you would be joining us, I would have made _you_ study schedules,” Hermione said coldly.

The Slytherins turned their ire towards her.

“Look who’s come to Malfoy’s rescue. A Mudblood, of all people.”

Hermione held the Slytherin girl’s glare, who eventually shrugged and walked away.

“Didn’t realize you turned into a nerd, Malfoy. Have fun studying.”

The rest of the Slytherins snickered, following her out. Hermione huffed and sat down across from Draco. His eyes were eyes glazed over, staring at some point in the distance.

“Draco? Are you alright?” Hermione reached for his hand on the table, but he pulled it away into his lap before she could touch him.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Those Slytherins-”

“Granger, I said I’m fine!” Draco snarled. “Forget about it.”

Hermione recoiled. She silently pushed Draco’s study schedule in front of him and played with one of her curls. A few moments passed before she asked, “What’s a Mudblood?”

Finally, Draco’s eyes snapped up to meet her own. 

“It’s a…” Draco trailed off. He took a deep breath and tried again. “It’s a bad name to call people like you. Muggle-borns. It’s a word that people like me use.”

Hermione frowned. “But you’ve never called me that.”

Draco dropped his gaze. “Never to your face. And not after we became...acquaintances.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “We’re friends, Draco, you can say it.”

“You don’t want to be my friend, Granger!” Draco whisper-shouted so as to not draw the ire of Madam Pince.

“How do you know what I want?” Hermione hissed angrily. 

“My father forbid me from talking to you. Is that really the kind of person you want to be friends with?”

Hermione scoffed. “I don’t care about your father. What about you? Do you want to be my friend?”

Draco paused, and said so quietly Hermione almost missed it. “Yes, I do.”

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but what she had to say Draco never heard because Ron and Harry chose that moment to come barging into the library.

“We passed a whole pack of Slytherins on the way in here,” Ron said as he put down books. He turned to Draco. “You sure you don’t want to join them, Malfoy?” 

Draco looked up calmly. Hermione couldn’t even tell he seemed to be on the brink of tears a handful of seconds earlier.

“Unfortunately that’s not on my study schedule. You might want to check yours, though.”

Ron mumbled something no one heard.

“What’d you say, Weasley?” Draco asked.

Ron turned abruptly to Draco, red-faced and angry. “I said you’re a pretentious prat. Drop the whole good guy thing and go run back to your daddy. No one wants you here.”

Hermione thought he would punch him, or shove him, at least, or throw an insult. Instead Draco stood, gathered his things, and said a curt “fine.” Hermione watched Draco’s hunched form as he stalked out of the library. 

She spun around and hissed “Ronald!” before storming off after Draco, ignoring Ron’s surprised exclamation of “Oi! What did I do?”

***

Hermione found Draco in the empty common room, staring blankly at the crackling fire. His necktie was askew, and his hair was no longer slicked back and a complete mess. She imagined he'd been running his fingers through it. He wasn’t sitting in a chair, instead opting for the floor, back bent and head propped up on one hand.

Draco didn’t acknowledge Hermione when she slowly approached and took a seat next to him, lightly resting one of her hands on his knee. “I want to be your friend, Draco. Actually I thought we were already friends, but I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

Hermione turned to see Draco’s eyes filled with tears he was furiously trying to blink away. One managed to escape, tracking a wet trail down his cheek.

“You shouldn’t want to be friends with me,” Draco said shakily. “I’ve been taught my whole life to hate people like you. And Weasley...our parents have never gotten along. I’ve been told they’re a bunch of blood-traitors.”

Draco sniffed, and gave a watery chuckle. “And yet here I am talking to my Muggle-born...friend, who my dad would kill me for talking to, and I don't understand why he’s told me lies all my life, and I don’t know what to do.”

Hermione couldn’t stand it any longer. She pulled Draco into a hug, who seemed utterly stunned at her display of affection.

“It’s ok if you don’t know. That’s what friends are for. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Draco tremulously smiled, and Hermione returned it with one of her own.

“Oh, and since we’re friends, you can call me Hermione. None of this Granger business.”

That earned her a real laugh from Draco.

“Alright, fair enough...Hermione.” He shuddered to himself. “No, that was weird. I don’t call anyone by their first name. You’ll always be Granger to me.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Fine, _Malfoy_ , if you’re going to be like that.”

Draco huffed. “Hey, I never said anything about you calling me Malfoy. Draco is perfectly fine.”

Hermione playfully punched Draco’s shoulder as the portrait hole flung open and revealed Harry leading a reluctant Ron.

Draco’s smile fell. He watched as Harry dragged Ron over to stand in front of him, muttering “come on Ron” under his breath. Hermione’s hand returned to Draco’s knee, and she gave him an encouraging squeeze.

Ron, staring down at his shoes, mumbled something while shuffling awkwardly in front of Draco.

“You say something, Weasley?”

“I’m sorry about calling you names.”

Harry nudged Ron with his shoulder, urging him to continue. “And I’m sorry for saying no one wants you here. Hermione seems to think you’re alright, and I think she’s alright, so I guess that means I don’t hate you.” Ron shuffled his feet some more, and murmured, “I still think your father’s a slimy git.”

Draco chose to ignore the last comment because he wasn’t too sure about how he felt towards his father at the moment anyway. Instead he stuck out his hand. Ron grasped it and helped Draco to his feet.

“Truce?”

“Truce.” 

The boys shook and then broke away. Draco glanced at Hermione, who had stood up and was rummaging through her bag.

“I’m glad you’ve made up, but you do realize we lost almost an hour and a half of study time. The schedules are all messed up now!” Hermione wailed.

Ron and Harry scrunched their faces in some semblance of apologetic. Draco smirked. “Granger, you might as well give us the rest of the night off. It’ll take you that long to account for the lost time and draw up some new schedules.”

Hermione stomped off towards the girls dormitory in a huff.

“Boys!”

She rounded the staircase and disappeared, the voice of Draco yelling, “don’t forget to color-code them! We won’t understand them otherwise!” drifting after her.

Draco snickered with Ron and Harry, and thought that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.


	4. spring, 1992

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One book down, six to go! If I ever skim over details, assume they played out as they did in the original story. No new tags. I know absolutely nothing about chess and played a couple online games to try to understand enough to make this hopefully somewhat accurate. 
> 
> Enjoy!

A couple weeks later the four of them were studying Herbology in the library. They spotted Hagrid browsing through books about dragons, and after paying Hagrid a visit, they found out about Norbert. Draco quickly discovered all the terrible things his father said about Hagrid weren’t true. He was nice and harmless from what Draco could tell, despite his terrible baking skills and desire to raise a dragon.

Harry came up with the brilliant idea to send Norbert to Charlie, and a plan was hatched. Ron was still incapacitated from Norbert’s bite. They all agreed having three people trying to navigate a crate with a dragon inside under the invisibility cloak would be too unwieldy and put them at risk of being seen. 

So when the day came, Ron and Draco stayed behind in the common room, waving and wishing Harry and Hermione good luck as they crept into the night.

Ron stretched out on the couch, his hand still wrapped in bandages. Draco sat awkwardly, looking around. He still wasn’t exactly best friends with Ron. Merlin, he wasn’t even best friends with Hermione, and he actually liked her.

Ron cleared his throat. “According to our study schedules, we’re supposed to be writing a Transfiguration essay right now.”

Draco glanced at Ron’s hand. “Are you even capable of writing?”

“An excellent point, Malfoy. That may be the most brilliant thing you’ve ever said.”

Draco scoffed, but Ron ignored him and continued.

“Why don’t we have a game of Wizard’s Chess instead. I bet you three Chocolate Frogs I’ll kick your arse.”

Draco leaned forward, a competitive glint in his eye. “You sure your family can afford that, Weasley?”

Ron leaned forward too, matching Draco’s posture. “Shouldn’t be a problem since I know I’ll win.”

Draco sat back and gestured at Ron. “Then by all means, let’s begin.”

Ron pulled out his Wizard’s Chess board and the boys began to play. Draco’s stomach sank when he realized Ron wasn’t just good at Wizard’s Chess. He was brilliant - not that Draco would ever admit it - and Draco knew he was going to be on the losing end of their bet.

“Queen to F6!”

Draco muttered a string of curses under his breath as Ron’s queen demolished his own. 

“King to D8,” Draco said, trying to dodge Ron’s attack.

Ron stared at the board for a moment before grinning triumphantly.

“Rook to D6! Checkmate!”

Draco grumbled, and Ron cheered for himself victoriously.

“Oh, shut it Weasley. I want a rematch.”

Ron set about righting the board, shaking his head.

“You won’t have any Chocolate Frogs left by the time we’re through.”

Ron was right. Draco ended up out 12 Chocolate Frogs, 2 Sugar Quills, and 5 Licorice Wands. They were so engrossed in a game for 3 Cauldron Cakes they didn’t even notice Hermione and Harry coming back to the common room, on the verge of tears because they forgot the invisibility cloak, and stuck with detention and out 100 points.

***

Draco and Ron fell asleep in the common room after another rowdy night of Wizard’s Chess. Draco still lost, but at least he was smart enough to not bet anything this time around. They both jerked awake when Hermione and Harry came bolting in, with Harry yelling something about a hooded figure drinking unicorn blood.

Hermione and Ron seemed to be more worried about exams, but Draco noticed Harry was more and more preoccupied. Draco personally sided with Harry. He’d heard the stories from his father about what the Dark Lord was capable of. Harry had the right idea being concerned about what could come.

Everything was fine, until Harry realized the person selling Hagrid a dragon egg may have been doing so to gather intel on Fluffy. Once the group learned Dumbledore was away, they knew tonight was the night.

Hermione, Harry and Ron were convinced Snape was the one trying to steal the Stone. Draco kept telling them it wasn’t Snape, A decade had passed, and Draco had never seen Snape at Malfoy Manor. What Draco had seen was a parade of former Death Eaters commiserating with his father and plotting new ways to harass Muggle-borns. 

But the fact remained - someone was going to try to steal the Sorcerer’s Stone.

“I have to get to the Stone first.”

Hermione and Ron gasped in shock, but Draco wasn’t sure why. What did they expect? The Boy Who Lived to simply roll over and let the Dark Lord return? Harry was as Gryffindor as they came, and Draco had a feeling Harry would go charging into a fire if it meant saving the world. 

Hermione’s expectant eyes pulled Draco from his thoughts.

“We’re all going with Harry, right?”

Draco sighed loudly. Of course he didn’t want to go. His father would probably have his head if he actively prevented the rise of the Dark Lord. But he couldn’t say no to Hermione.

“Yes, I guess we’re all going. What a party.”

Ron exchanged a shocked glance with Harry that Draco pretended not to notice.

“But you can’t tell anyone about me being there. I don’t want anything...bad to happen.” 

Hermione looked like she knew exactly why Draco wanted to keep his involvement a secret.

“Of course, Draco. We won’t say anything. Right?” Hermione glared at Ron and Harry until they muttered their agreement.

That night, they all quietly sat in the common room, waiting for everyone else to go to bed. When it was time to leave, they were almost stopped by Neville, but a full body-bind curse put a quick stop to that problem.

They hurried through the halls to get to the third-floor corridor where they would find Fluffy and the Stone. Draco kept muttering about how they would all inevitably get themselves killed, which did nothing to improve the mood.

The group finally arrived at the already propped-open door. They crept through, and spotted Fluffy sniffing and investigating them. A harp sat a few feet away.

“Start playing, Potter.”

Harry glared at Draco before bringing the flute to his lips and playing a horrifically off-key melody. All of Fluffy’s eyes drooped closed, and the dog fell asleep.

“Merlin, Potter. Could you be worse at that?”

Harry stopped playing and chucked the flute at Draco’s head. In the few seconds since the music ceased, Fluffy stirred, growling gently in his sleep.

“If you think you’d be so much better why don’t you try?”

Draco shot Harry a withering smirk. He brought the flute to his lips and managed a couple verses of “Mary Had a Little Gnome” as Harry and Ron struggled to open the trapdoor Fluffy was sitting on. After a bit of examination, Harry and Ron jumped through. Before jumping herself, Hermione turned to look at Draco.

“Don’t stop playing until you jump through, okay?”

Draco rolled his eyes since he couldn’t respond, and Hermione took that to mean he understood. She jumped, and a few seconds later, Draco followed.

“I still don’t understand why that dog’s name is Fluffy,” Draco wondered. “A three-headed dog, and you go with Fluffy? It deserves a more regal name-”

“Now is not the time! We’re in a plant that’s eating us alive!” Ron screamed.

Draco finally noticed the green vines wrapping around Harry and Ron, and that were beginning to wrap around Hermione and himself. His heartbeat picked up. Draco was sure the panic on everyone else’s face was mirrored on his own.

“It’s called Devil’s Snare!” Hermione shouted. “If only I could remember how to kill it.”

Draco suddenly knew.

“Light! It doesn't like the light!”

He whipped out his wand and yelled, “ _Lumos!_ ”

As soon as the light touched the plant, it shrank away, wriggling towards the dark corners. Draco felt the grip around his middle loosen, and he maneuvered himself through to the wall on the other side. He turned and grabbed Hermione, helping her to her feet. Ron and Harry made it out too, brushing off some lingering dirt.

“That was fun.”

Harry ignored Draco’s comment and marched ahead, beckoning at the others to follow him. A snippy remark about how Harry _had_ to lead died on Draco’s tongue before he could say it. Now really wasn’t the time. 

Huh. Was that growth?

Draco couldn’t dwell, because they entered a room full of fluttering objects, and an ornate wooden door on the opposite end. 

The other three cautiously approached the door, but Draco kept his eyes on the...birds? No, they weren’t birds. They clinked too much. They were-

“Keys. They’re keys,” Draco murmured. “And I’m guessing we have to grab one that will open the door.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed. Good. 

“That’s great, but how do we catch it?” Ron asked impatiently.

Draco glanced around, and before he could spot a solution, Harry yelled, “Here! Broomsticks!”

Sure enough, in the corner sat four broomsticks that looked about a million years old. But what choice did they have?

Everyone grabbed a broomstick. Draco kicked off from the ground, flying lazily around the keys, searching for one that would fit. He figured it would be old and ornate like the door, with its wings potentially crushed from being caught already. He scanned the keys. Draco finally spotted one flying a little lopsidedly.

“That one, there! Yeah, with the crumpled wing!” Harry pointed it out before Draco got a chance. Not that Draco was upset by it at all.

Draco hung back as Ron and Hermione tried to corner the key, causing it to dart away and for Harry to give chase. Draco assessed the situation. It would take Harry at least 30 seconds to catch it at this rate, and that was if he caught it at all. No, Draco would take this opportunity. 

He crouched on his broom, counting down until Harry almost chased the key directly in front of Draco. He shot out, whipping through the air and snatching the key from in front of Harry’s nose. It made a sickening crunch as he crushed the wings in his hand.

Harry grunted in shock. Draco grinned.

“You may be the youngest Seeker in a hundred years, but you’re not the only Seeker in existence, Potter.”

Draco glided down to the door. Sure enough, the key fit perfectly, and with a series of clicks, it swung open.

The others joined Draco in creeping into a large, dark room. Suddenly a series of torches lit, revealing a giant chessboard, and a door on the opposite side. Draco had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He suspected what this was.

“We have to play our way across.” 

Draco nodded in agreement with Ron. Harry, Hermione and Ron took the places of a bishop, queen and knight, respectively. Ron turned to Draco from his square.

“Well? What are you going to be?”

Draco thought for a moment.

“I would love to be the king, but-”

The chess pieces didn’t seem to want to hear the rest of Draco’s reasoning because the king stepped off the board, leaving the spot open for Draco.

Ron muttered something that sounded like “typical” under his breath, watching as a white pawn moved two squares forward.

All of them listened to what Ron told them to do. Draco knew better than to pretend otherwise. Ron bit his lip, deep in thought.

“I have to be taken.”

“What?”

“No!”

Ron had a grim but determined look on his face. “Yes. The queen will take me, and then Harry can checkmate the king.”

“There has to be another way!” Hermione yelled.

“There’s not! We’re running out of time,” Ron shouted back.

Draco spoke up. “Weasley’s right. We have to go.”

Hermione let out a resigned sigh, and gestured for Ron to go ahead. Ron moved forward, and the queen crashed into him, sending Ron spinning across the board. Draco blanched, and Hermione screamed. Ron appeared to be unconscious after taking a serious blow to the head.

Harry moved a few spaces to checkmate the king. As soon as the king threw his crown at Harry’s feet and they knew the game was over, they rushed to Ron. He was bleeding from a gash on the side of his head, and had a series of cuts and bruises sprinkled across his face and arms. Draco knew what he had to do.

“You two go on. I’ll stay behind with Weasley and get him to wake up and take him to the hospital wing.”

Hermione’s face scrunched in concern, and before he knew what was happening, Hermione threw her arms around Draco.

“Thank you.”

Draco awkwardly patted her back.

“Yeah, I’d probably get blamed if he died, so y’know…”

“You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for.”

Draco didn’t know what to say to that. He stood staring at Hermione for a few seconds, until Harry cleared his throat.

“We need to go.”

Hermione shot one last look at Draco and Ron. She turned and jogged with Harry through the door on the other side of the chessboard and disappeared.

Draco watched them go, then turned to Ron.

“Ok Weasley, I need you to wake up.”

Draco gently shook Ron’s shoulders, but it did nothing. Ron remained slumped over. Draco groaned in frustration. He was going to have to use a spell he hadn’t tried on a real person yet. But better now than never.

“ _Rennervate_!”

Ron began to stir, blinking confusedly before his eyes settled on Draco.

“Harry?”

Draco snorted.

“Unfortunately you’re stuck with me.”

Ron groaned. He was a little green, and Draco thought he might faint again.

“Don’t worry Weasley. I’m going to take you to Madam Pomfrey, not hex your brains out.”

Ron glanced around, looking for someone. Draco saw the realization hit Ron as he asked, “Where’s Hermione and Harry?”

Draco sighed.

“They went ahead. I volunteered to stay behind to help you.”

Now Ron definitely appeared on the verge of fainting.

“You...stayed behind to help me?”

Draco nodded.

Resignation swept over Ron’s face. “Help me up. Let’s get out of here.”

Draco stood and offered Ron his hand, pulling the other boy to his feet. Ron balanced on Draco as they limped into the room with the keys. They grabbed two brooms, and flew out of the maze hidden beneath the trapdoor towards the hospital wing.

***

It was the end of the term, and the Hogwarts Express had almost arrived at platform 9¾. The students were still buzzing about how Harry managed to save the Stone from Quirrell with the help of Dumbledore, who Hermione ran into after getting past Snape’s potions. Ron and Harry had wandered off to a different train car when Dean said Seamus accidentally exploded Neville’s toad (it turned out to not be true - Trevor had hopped away in the nick of time). 

It left Draco and Hermione alone in their own compartment. Draco dreaded going back home. His father was sure to bully him more about being a bleeding Gryffindor. On top of that, he hadn’t even gotten the top marks in the class. The honor went to Hermione, and Draco was happy for her, of course, but it would’ve made his life easier if he had been number one.

“You have to promise to write.”

Draco glanced up to Hermione, who was staring at him beseechingly.

“I’ll do my best. I can’t make any promises.” Draco was afraid what his father would say or do if he found out Draco was going out of his way to communicate with Hermione.

She wasn’t taking no for an answer, though. “Just pretend you’re writing in an opinion to _Seeker Weekly_. I don’t want to go the whole summer without talking to you.”

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but the train screeched to a halt, indicating they had arrived.

Hermione stood up and was about to leave when Draco grabbed her hand.

“Let me go first. And it’s probably best if we don’t walk out together.”

“What- oh.”

Anger rose and died in Hermione’s throat when she realized what Draco was doing. She wouldn’t be surprised if his parents cursed her as soon as they realized who she was. Hermione didn’t even want to think of what they would say to her parents. 

Draco paused, and then, to Hermione’s shock, pulled her into a hug. This was the first time Draco hugged her. Before it had always been the other way around. She returned it fiercely. 

“Try not to get in too much trouble,” she whispered in his ear.

Draco laughed and pulled back, winking at Hermione.

“I’ll do my best.”

Draco picked up his bag and made for the exit.

“Bye, Granger.”

“Bye, Draco.”

Just like that, Draco disappeared in the sea of students getting off the train. She waited a few seconds, then got off herself, searching for her parents or Ron and Harry. She found the latter first.

“Where’d Malfoy go?”

“He left already. Didn’t want to walk with me.”

Ron scoffed.

“What a slimy git.”

Hermione glared at Ron.

“He did it so I wouldn’t have to talk to his parents. Who knows what they would say to the Muggle-born who befriended their son?”

Ron looked sheepish and seemed to realize his mistake.

“Alright, maybe he’s not such a slimy git after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/chaoticsarahh).


End file.
